Spies Like Us
by mosylu
Summary: Cassian and Jyn mess around while on a mission, and accidentally wind up doing their jobs. What can I say? They're just that good. A fluffy everyone lives AU


(A/N) Yes, I know, these are Very Srs Characters but I wanted them to have a little fun. Don't you?

* * *

Jyn wove her way through the ballroom, feeling her silky dress swirl around her ankles. She came up on a group of men, laughing loudly at something one of them had said. "Darling," she said, latching onto the speaker. "Did you know you've only danced with me three times tonight?"

Cassian's dark eyes looked down at her, but it was Berkin Ifan's cut-glass Core accent that said, "Only three times, my love?"

"Only three." She pouted up at him.

(The first time she'd tried out that little pout, back at the base, Bodhi had recoiled. "That's _horrifying,_ " he said. "Warn me next time." But she'd gotten better.)

"I'm feeling neglected," she continued.

"Well, we can't have that." He gave the other men in the group a little bow. "I can't possibly disappoint her. She would make me pay in ways you couldn't imagine." To their kindly, paternalistic laughter, he offered her his arm. "Shall we, my flower?"

She batted her lashes and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. To anyone else, it would have looked like he was guiding her to the dance floor, but subtle pressure to his arm pushed them where they needed to be in order to spot Doriya and Kenun returning.

She and Cassian were playing backup tonight, one more couple at the reception, hanging around decoratively while two other agents did some quick and dirty recon. If all went well, they wouldn't even have to use the various weapons hidden in and under their clothing.

When they'd gotten the assignment, Jyn had thought it would be easy, possibly fun, even if she did have to wear incredibly uncomfortable shoes and a dress that was mostly skirt and barely any bodice. But it was somehow more nerve-wracking than doing the recon herself, especially since one of the agents on point was a brand-new recruit getting her feet wet.

She tossed her hair, feeling the large, glittery fake stones at her ears swing madly, and gave him a moony face for the benefit of anyone watching. "They've been gone ten minutes."

Cassian rubbed his thumb gently over her waist, exposed by the cut of the dress, and in spite of her nerves, a warm shimmer rolled through her. "She'll be fine," he murmured, giving her a charming smile. "This is a milk run. Just a quick office search. And it's not so long ago you were doing those yourself."

She squeezed his shoulder slightly to let him know she wasn't amused at the reminder. He leaned down to give her a quick kiss on the lips, just like a doting, too-rich husband would to his pretty, fluffy trophy wife.

When they were themselves, not playing a cover, they were reserved with each other in public. Hell, only about forty percent of the base even knew they were together. But their covers for tonight had required them to be a little more handsy, a little more dewey-eyed. She was enjoying it more than she expected. It was a little like being drunk, without the resultant loss of control.

She was also enjoying the sight of him in his fancy suit. How was it that she'd seen him naked on any number of occasions but could still be taken aback by how broad his shoulders were? And, well, those trousers fit very nicely -

"Mmm, there they are," he said suddenly, snapping her out of her gentle lust-haze.

"And?"

"They're arguing - yes - ah, there's the slap." He spun her through a turn that flared her skirts out wide, and she saw one of their agents storming out of the ballroom, her face bright red.

That was the signal that all had gone as planned. The agent storming out carried the data stick with the intel they'd come for, and the other one running after her would guard her back on the way to the extraction point.

She smoothed her hand over his shoulder, feeling the tension dissolving out of it, feeling her stomach unknot as the same tension eased. He was no more fond of hanging around in the background than she was, for all he'd had so much more experience with it. And it had been his call to put young Doriya in the hot seat on this one. He'd been confident in her, and Jyn had been confident in her, but still - it was nice to slip through this unscathed.

He gave her a little smile - his own smile, not his cover's. She smiled back.

They were supposed to wait five minutes and then make their excuses to drift along out of the ballroom. She cast a longing glance over his shoulder. "Do you think we have time to go to the buffet?"

"I know what you're after, and Halini Ifans is allergic to shellfish, remember?"

"I'm going to kill K2 for making that part of her profile," she grumbled. The stupid droid knew she loved darveen patties. She'd cooked and eaten the nightmare ocean bugs when forced to by circumstances, and found she liked them way better ground up, seasoned and fried. Really. _Way_ better.

It had been presented as in-case-of-emergency - she could eat something and then have a dramatic allergic reaction - but she just knew the stinking droid been chortling electronically to himself. "No, but seriously," she said to Cassian, "you could put a few in your pocket - "

"It'll ruin the suit," he said, but he danced them toward the buffet.

The buffet was out of patties - karking hell! - but she got to eat another three or four of the little crackers spread with meat goo and have another two or three of the tiny yellow fruits. She really did consider stuffing a few of those down her bodice for later, but decided against it, with regret. There wasn't a whole lot to the bodice, and she already had plenty of equipment down there already.

When five minutes were up, they started circulating, saying effusive and insincere good-byes to the people they'd met. Jyn gigglingly agreed to set up a spa day with a trophy husband - "someday soon, darling, absolutely!" ( _spa day,_ her scalp prickled in horror. She would have rather gone target shooting with his wife) and Cassian dropped hints to mildly corrupt Imperial flunkies about helping him with business deals that had never existed.

She hung on his arm, shooting him adoring looks, and he not-very-subtly groped her ass, and everybody gave them looks ranging from knowing to fond to nauseated. It was pretty clear why the Ifans newlyweds were leaving so early.

They slid out of the ballroom as if oiled.

The hallway leading toward the coat check was mostly abandoned. A few security guards looking bored orbited around the end of the hallway.

Suddenly, he steered her into a side corridor and paused, tugging her close. She went willingly, sliding her arms around his neck and stretching up to nuzzle his ear. "What is it?" she breathed.

"Text line from the ship," he murmured, and between their bodies, he pulled out his commlink. The slender screen along the side read, _Patrols in the area. Delay departure ½ hr._

This wasn't uncommon. He glanced up at her as he sent a confirmation and tucked the commlink back inside his suit. "Half an hour to burn, then."

"We could go back in there," she murmured. "Dance a little, chat some more." She wasn't serious (maybe a little if they'd restocked the buffet). She would shoot herself in the throat before she chatted any more with those vacuous people.

"We've already said our goodbyes."

"Oh well, then, we'll just have to stay here and pass the time somehow." She kissed him for real and felt him smile against her mouth.

She hadn't drunk enough to counteract the stay-sober pill she'd taken, and neither had he. Maybe it was the dizzy flying feeling of getting in, getting the intel, getting out - or knowing that it had gotten done. Maybe it was the fancy outfits. Maybe they'd put something on those crackers besides pulverized meat.

Whatever the reason, she shortly found herself pressed up against the wall, humming with pleasure and weaving her fingers in the soft fluff of his hair, as they kissed hungrily and he kneaded her hips through the silky skirts.

When she hooked one leg up over his hip and arched against him, he broke off with a laugh. "Out here?"

She rested her head back against the wall, smiling at him. "We don't have to be out here."

He looked thoughtful. She slid one hand down his front, under his suit jacket, and ran it up his back again. "What's this hall?" she whispered. He'd memorized the layout of the entire floor before they'd landed.

That decided matters. "Empty offices," he murmured, squeezing her ass.

"Good enough for me." She stretched up to kiss him again, flailing out with one hand. It hit a door pad and a door slid open. Giggling, she tugged him through it.

They had just enough light to see a desk before the door zipped closed again. They stumbled across the room, groping each other, and ran into the desk hard enough that something clattered to the floor. Jyn's brain hiccuped at that, but then Cassian hoisted her up so she was sitting on the desk and stepped in between her legs.

She framed his face with her hands, nibbling at his lower lip, licking into his mouth. He made a low sound of pleasure in his throat and gathered her even closer, stroking his warm hands up and down her back. When his mouth drifted over her jaw and down the column of her throat, she sighed and trailed her hand down his front.

She loved this. She loved kissing him, and she loved that she still loved kissing him. She loved knowing every inch of his body. She could have traced every scar, poked every freckle, through all his layers of clothing, in the dark. They'd been together a year, her longest and healthiest relationship ever. It was good, even with the work they did and how often they had to be apart and worry about each others' safety.

Of course the whole being-in-a-war aspect was probably not ideal, but she couldn't remember anything else and neither could he. The part of her that was waiting for it to go sour (things went sour, that was what they did) was getting smaller and quieter these days, and maybe one day it would be gone forever.

He ran his hands down her thighs, gathering up fistfuls of skirt - and more fistfuls - and more - He laughed out a curse. "Dammit, woman, this is a lot of skirt."

She burbled with laughter. "Take it up with - ohhhh," she sighed as his hand slid up her naked thigh (okay, naked except for her vibroblade in its scabbard). "Mmm. Yes, I - "

The lights flicked on, and someone screeched, "What are you doing in here?"

Jyn's fingers clenched in Cassian's shirt, and his eyes widened with the same horror that spiked through her own body. Their information had been out of date. Someone was very much using this office.

That someone stood in the door, a balding, portly man in the dress of an off-world Imperial lieutenant governor, his face going redder and redder with every moment.

Cassian swore low in her ear, and even though her stomach was clenching up with adrenaline, it definitely turned her crank a little. In his perfect Core accent, he said over his shoulder, "Do you mind?"

"Yes, I mind! How did you get into my office?"

"This is your office? Not well guarded, I must say. It wasn't even locked."

"Honey," Jyn whined, sliding her hand inside his coat and along his ribs. "Baby, maybe we should - "

"Darling, this man is being very rude about an honest mistake - "

"You think I'm an idiot?" the man shrieked. "You think I don't know about the little trick where master spies pretend to be engaged in amorous encounters when they're caught snooping where they shouldn't be? You think I'm a moron who's never watched a holo?"

She froze for the second time in two minutes, torn between horror and hilarity. Cassian reacted more smoothly. "But - what? Spies? There are spies here?"

Jyn clutched Cassian's shoulder with her free hand. "Honey, he thinks _we're_ the spies." Oh, don't let him call in those security goons. They could get past security, but it would be annoying.

"But that's ridiculous!" He squeezed her waist - _Hurry up_ \- and she poked his ribs with her finger - _I'm trying!_

She found the dart gun in one of his inside pockets and pulled the trigger. The first one missed, while the functionary fumbled for his commlink. But when she fired the second time, he grabbed for his upper arm. "You did something! You - did - shomething - shpy - " He went down like an Endorian redwood.

Cassian let out his breath and stepped away, crouching to check that he hadn't managed to turn on the commlink. He glanced up and nodded. "He'll be out for at least ten minutes, maybe more."

She hopped down and popped open the door a crack to listen for guards or activity out in the corridor. If somebody had heard him screeching, this could get very interesting in short order.

She glanced down at him and shook her head, then shut the door again. "What do you think?" she asked, leaning back against the door. "I mean, since we're here and all."

Cassian shrugged. "Might as well. We have this golden opportunity."

"I'd rather be making out," she mumbled, crouching to go through the little's man's pockets.

"Back on the ship," Cassian said as he went to the desk, but his voice held a tinge of regret too.

She found an ID and checked it. He even looked angry and self-important in the ID photo. She rolled her eyes. "Our friend here is one Corloni Deschla. He's a sub-lieutenant governor on Dorian."

"Dorian, isn't that a colony moon in this system?" He slid a datapad out of a drawer and plugged a data stick into its port. The whole system would be replicated in under a minute.

"Mmmm. He's even less important than he looks and far less important than he thinks."

"About as important as a tiny thermal exhaust port on a space station?" Cassian asked.

She shot him a look. "Point taken."

He made an aggrieved noise. "I can't believe he caught us like that. This is the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened to me."

"What about the duck?" she asked, going through Deschla's other pockets.

He ignored that in lofty silence, checking Deschla's other drawers, while she chortled to herself. Over the next couple of minutes, her most exciting discovery in Deschla's pockets was two darveen patties from the buffet in his. She considered them, argued with herself, and regretfully decided that it would slightly too disgusting to eat them, and also he would probably notice their loss when he woke up.

At the desk, Cassian made a low, sudden noise. She looked up. "What is it?"

"Come here and have a look."

She got to her feet and went over to crouch with him over a couple of flimsies from the file drawer. It looked like a biochemists' report on some Dorian flora.

He pointed at a particular spot of sciencese. "A fast growing plant that'll survive in poor soil," he said. "Could be a food source." The Rebellion was always looking for renewable food sources, particularly to supply large bases in inhospitable climes.

"Mmm, maybe," she said. "But look, look at those molecular structures on the oil produced from the fruits. It's very similar to the best oil for hyperdrives."

After Saw had abandoned her, a traveling mechanic's ship - basically a flying chop shop - had picked her up because the captain had taken a shine to her. As relationships went, it had been a trashfire - never again with someone twice her age, she'd vowed - but she'd learned a lot about ship maintenance.

A line appeared between his brows. "The synthetics for that are caught up in the blockades right now."

She nodded. "They're an arm and a leg on the black market. But if this is a viable replacement - " Their usable fleet could double in size overnight as hyperdrives got the maintenance they needed.

"Oh, now that is _interesting_ ," he breathed.

She glanced at the still-comatose Deschla. "Not delusions of grandeur, then."

"We'll see. Can I get your scanner?"

She dug around in her bodice and pulled out a tiny metal wand. He hit the button on the end and blue light beamed out in a plane over the paper, uploading into data form.

Meanwhile, she wrapped her hand in some extra skirt and plucked the dart out of Deschla's arm, dropping it into a plastic tube, also retrieved from her bodice. Another moment's digging produced a little squishy ball. With a couple of squeezes, she squirted the contents on his face and neck. A strong smell of stale alcohol rose up, as if he'd passed out drunk. She wadded it up and shoved it into the tube with the used dart.

Just to add to the effect, Cassian poured half a glass from a bottle on the bookshelf, then set the glass down next to Deschla's hand and tipped it over to soak into the carpet. The knockout dart usually scrambled the memory of the five or so minutes prior to injection, but it was always best to have a pre-fab explanation.

While Cassian got everything back exactly the way it was on the desk, she went hunting and found the second dart, stuck in the door frame. Into the tube it went, which was then firmly capped and re-stowed under her left breast. Cassian came to join her, stepping over Deschla's comatose body, and hit the lights. The door slid open, then shut behind them.

Except for the sub-lieutenant governor stretched out on the floor, they might never have been there.

He slung his arm over her shoulder as they ambled out into the main hallway again, whispering in her ear, "By the way, I have a surprise for you."

She leaned into him and whispered back, "You know I love it, but as long as we've been together, that's not a surprise."

He took her hand and tucked it in one of his pockets, where a plastic bag crinkled. Through the plastic, she felt the unmistakable texture of at least two darveen patties. She looked up at him and caught the smirk lurking around the edges of his mouth.

She beamed up at him. "Oh, baby," she cooed in Halini Ifans' voice as they walked out the door, "I really do have the most fun with you."

FINIS


End file.
